


Blackstone's Ratio

by orbythesea



Category: The Good Wife (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-09
Updated: 2011-09-09
Packaged: 2017-10-23 13:52:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orbythesea/pseuds/orbythesea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In her first few years back at work, she could find grace in losing, glimmers of hope in the dark, ways to measure winning that didn't include the words "not guilty" or "not liable."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackstone's Ratio

_"It is better that ten guilty persons escape than that one innocent suffer."_  
-William Blackstone, _Commentaries on the Laws of England_

 _"The story is told of a Chinese law professor, who was listening to a British lawyer explain that Britons were so enlightened, they believed it was better that ninety-nine guilty men go free than that one innocent man be executed.  The Chinese professor thought for a second and asked, 'Better for whom?'"_  
-Alexander Volokh,  _n Guilty Men_  (146 U. Penn. L. Rev. 173)

*

She doesn't like to lose.  It's something she'd let herself forget (made herself forget) for years, but she doesn't like to lose.  

In her first few years back at work, she could find grace in losing, glimmers of hope in the dark, ways to measure winning that didn't include the words "not guilty" or "not liable."  Criminal prosecutions arising out of unsuccessful civil suits, jury wins to hold onto after verdicts have been set aside.  Even absolute losses, she found ways to rationalize.  The client was guilty, he got the best defense, the system worked as it should.

Today though, today they should have won.

She goes back to her office and slumps down into her chair, the image of Wade Lawson sitting innocent ( _innocent_ ) behind bars playing against the backs of her eyelids every time she blinks.  "We'll appeal," Will said, but it sounded hollow, empty.  An innocent man will spend the next twenty years in prison, and she couldn't stop it. 

Blackstone's ratio echoes in her head, the moral justification for so many wins that shouldn't have been taunting her now.  How many guilty men has she helped free, and for what?  For _what_?

Courtney raps at at the door and doesn't wait for Alicia to say 'come in.'  There's a scheduling conflict for a depo in her next case, it's been bumped up.  Life moves forward.  For the first time in a long time, she doesn't stop by Will's office on her way out for the night.

*

Eli's waiting in her office when she arrives the next morning.  She's late, but only by a few minutes, and she's ready with an apology on her lips but he waves it away.

"Coffee," he says, holding out a paper cup, white, with a cheerful green mermaid.  "You like it with milk."

She does, though she's not sure how he knows that.  She thinks that Peter must have said something, once, before everything fell apart.  When she was younger, when she was still in school, before she ever met Peter, she took her coffee light and sweet.  Peter used to tease her about it, judge her for it, as if wanting something to cut the bitterness made her weak.  After they got married, she stopped adding sugar and told herself it was a health thing.  She kept the milk, though, if only to stop herself from burning her tongue on the first sip.  Peter never let it go.  ( _Some people just can't handle the heat._ )

"I do," she says.  She takes the cup from Eli's outstretched hand but she doesn't drink.  "Why--?"

Eli shrugs.  "I just-- " Eli ducks his head, as if she won't see that soft, shy smile of his.  "It's just coffee."

She takes a sip, cautious.  It's lukewarm, and she thinks he's probably been here for a while, wonders how long.  "I had a depo rescheduled, Courtney said she was moving our meeting to this afternoon."  She moves around him to set her computer on her desk and sink into her chair.

"She did," he says.  "I just-- I just brought you coffee."  He looks like he might say something more, but then he shakes his head.  "Four thirty, don't be late."  He grins at her, then, and slips out the door.

*

"Our client had no duty of care."

Will's eyebrows shoot up at that, or maybe it's her tone.  She's been colder, lately, but she's been able to temper it, when it's just the two of them.  This isn't them, though, this is _work_ , and she has a job to do.  "She didn't."

"Okay," he says, hands up as if to say _you win._   "She didn't have a duty of care.  But I still think-- "

"No duty of care means--"

"I know what it means, Alicia," he says, voice as hard as her own, face twisted into an ugly sneer.  "But I'm not walking into court hanging my hat on your ability to convince a jury that-- "

"You don't think I can do it," she snaps, cutting him off.  "Will, this is a frivolous lawsuit that should never have survived a motion to dismiss but you--"

"Get out," he hisses, and his voice sends a chill down her spine.  Less than a second later, he's falling all over himself to apologize, but she's already gathering up her things.  "Alicia, I didn't mean-- "

Diane looks up from across the hall when the door slams behind her.

*

Will apologizes again, later, with his lips against her ear and two fingers buried deep inside of her.

"Shut up," she orders him.  "Just-- Just shut up."

She comes with his thumb on her clit and his teeth raking over her throat.  

For the first time, she doesn't apologize when she reminds him that she can't stay.  He whispers "I love you," as she dresses in the dark.

*

She's early, but there's coffee and a pastry bag on her desk.  The phone is already ringing and she looks up as she answers it.  Through glass and across the hallway that separates their offices, Eli is watching.  She smiles and he looks away.

"Why?" she asks him later.  The coffee is long gone, but she's still picking at the blueberry scone, taking tiny bites as they work.

Eli shrugs.  "I heard about the Lawson verdict."

Alicia stares at him, uncomprehending.  "And you... felt sorry for me?" she supplies, finally, and it's an accusation.

His response is immediate and horrified.  "No!  Alicia, _no_."  He looks away.  "I just thought you could use someone doing something nice for you."

Alicia doesn't know what to say to that so she says nothing.

*

"It's not a big deal," Zach insists, and she balks at that.

"Not a big deal?  Not-- " She's trying so hard not to shout.  "Zach, you're sixteen-years-old."

"And it was _one_ beer," he yells.  "I didn't even get drunk, why do you have to be so--"

"Because I'm your _mother_ and you're sixteen-years-old and--"

"Then I'll just go live with Dad then," Zach shouts, pulling open the front door.  Alicia starts to follow, but there's Eli, hand raised to knock as he stands frozen between Zach and his dramatic exit.

"Bad time?" Eli asks and Alicia thinks that if her heart hadn't just been ripped from her chest that she might actually smile at the sight of him.

Zach tries to push past him, but Eli stands his ground.  He settles for stomping back to his room, slamming the door behind him.

"Am I overreacting?" she asks later, sitting at her dining room table with a bottle of wine and papers spread out between them.  In the back of her mind, there's a nagging little voice that tells her that this is the sort of thing she would never ask Will.

"No," Eli says, and there's a gentleness to it that throws her.  "He's sixteen."

"He's your candidate's son," Alicia points out.  "You're supposed to say that so it doesn't become a thing."

"That's not why," Eli shoots back.  "Alicia, that's not why."  They're both quiet for a minute when he looks up.  "He didn't mean it," he adds.  "About Peter.  Marisa used to put her mom through the same thing once a week from the day she started high school."  He looks away.  "She never meant it." 

Alicia's heart breaks for him.

*

They lose the Lawson appeal and Will is unfazed.  "We expected that," he says, taking a step towards her.  "You knew that, Leesh."

"That's not good enough," she whispers, moving away.  "Will, that's not-- "

"It's the job," he shoots back.  "It's always been the job, and if _still_ don't understand that, I don't know what to tell you."

"Peter looks like he has a shot of making it through the primaries," she says.  "I could talk to him about-- "

Will laughs, he actually _laughs_.  "You can't, Alicia," he says.  "Think about it, even if he wins, and that's a big if-- The ethics of it are-- You can't ask your ex-husband to pardon your client, not when he prosecuted him."

She looks down at her hands, her wedding band.  _He's still my husband,_ she wants to say, but she's not sure why.  

"You can't, Alicia," he whispers.  "That's an order."

 _He's still my husband,_ she thinks.  _And Wade Lawson is innocent._   When she leaves, she goes straight to David Lee.  
   
*

Eli's there, when she gets back to her office.

"No coffee?" she asks, lips quirking up into an involuntary smile.

He shakes his head.  "It's late."  He holds up a bottle of white wine.  "It needs to be chilled, but-- " 

Something inside of her breaks, then.  "Peter always preferred red," she hears herself saying.  "And even though he knew I like white, he always brought me red."

Eli nods.  "I know," he says, softly.

They're quiet for a long time, just watching each other.  

"Will likes red too, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, but he drinks tequila because I like it," she offers as a defense.

"Yeah," Eli says, looking away.  "Yeah."

*

She comes home to find Peter in her living room, helping Grace with her Civics homework.  She wants to scream, but Grace looks so happy that she bites her tongue.

"Can we talk?" he asks, only he's not asking.

"Grace-- " she starts, but Grace is already gathering up her homework.

"Thanks, Dad," she says, giving Peter an exaggerated kiss on the cheek before slipping into her bedroom.  To Alicia, it feels like an accusation.

"I'm represented by counsel, Peter," she whispers once she hears the thump of Grace's door.  "You can't just-- "

"Just hold off until after the primary," he murmurs.  "I won't fight you on it, just-- I'm _so_ close, Alicia."

She starts for the door and he follows.  It's a familiar routine by now.

"Wade Lawson," she says, folding her arms across her chest.

"What about him?" Peter asks, and Alicia watches the gears turning, waits until she sees the click.  

"Wade Lawson," she repeats.  

Peter's smiling now, conspiratorial, like a cat.  When she was twenty-three, that smile used to make her weak in the knees.  Now, it leaves her nauseated.  "Wade Lawson."

She nods.  "Do we have a deal?"

They have a deal.

*

Life moves forward, as it always does.  She's in David Lee's office discussing his proposed settlement agreement when Will ducks his head in.  "I need you," he says and she nods, apologizes, glances at her watch so she can verify David's timesheet when she gets the bill.

"Peter pardoned Wade Lawson today," he says, leading her into his office.  His expression is blank but there's hurt in his eyes.

"Did he?"  She takes a page out of Peter's book when she smiles.

"Alicia-- "

"I was protecting my client," she says before he can admonish her.  "And if you can't understand that-- "

"Eighteen months, Alicia!"  He's shouting, and she doesn't have to look to know that people outside of his office are staring.  "A year and a half of hiding, of waiting for you to be ready and it's all been about-- "

"So is this about work, or is this about us?" she snaps.  "Because if it's about insubordination or the firm's reputation, that's one thing, but if it's about-- "

"It's about-- My _God_ Alicia, do you even-- "

"Wade Lawson is _innocent_ ," she says, coldly.  "He's innocent, and our new governor saw that and I'll sleep well tonight knowing that my client is home with his family and if that's too inconvenient for you to-- "

"I love you," he whispers, helplessly.  "Don't you get that?"

"I do," she says, and she's proud of how even her voice is.  "Will, I do."  She takes a deep breath.  "But I couldn't just sit idly by and hope that maybe things would work out when--"

"What do you think I did for twenty years?" he shoots back.  "What the hell do you think I've been doing for-- "

"And maybe that's the problem," she says, closing her eyes.  "Maybe that's the problem."

*

She's waiting in Eli's office when he arrives the next morning.  

"I don't actually know how you take it," she admits, holding out a paper cup.  "So there's milk and sugar, there-- " she nods to a bag on his desk.

"Sweet," he tells her, gently.  "Light and sweet."


End file.
